When feelings pollute the air
by Sapphire1112
Summary: Sam left with Grace but Connie never got Cancer. I do not own the characters. Strachamp.
1. Chapter 1

**Connie**

I worry about it all the way to the cabin. I can't wait to see Grace, but Sam is another matter. I want to see him, I do – _so much_. I really do, but after the way he left, I don't know how it's going to be. I thought I knew him better than anyone – he knows how to get under my skin the way no one else does and to a certain extent, that works both ways. So, _I thought I knew him_ , but truthfully, I don't have a clue.

I don't blame him for leaving – it was my fault entirely, but I feel that I've cut off anything he might have felt for me – severed everything other than the fact we have a daughter together and there is _no going back_ – no matter how much I long to.

It's ironic really – that 'co-parenting' is _all_ we have left, considering all the years I tried to stop him from being a father to Grace. Now it's the only thing I have to hold on to.

Gracie wants me here for Christmas – and I want to be here with them both, but I have no idea how Sam feels about me being here – _no idea at all_. I haven't spoken to him. The two of us have had practically no contact since their sudden departure in the summer – other than a couple of short, blunt emails about the arrangements for my trip. The emails were completely unemotional and the wording was cold and detached. _It didn't sound like Sam._ He's one of the most warm and passionate men I know – even when he tries not to be. He signed the emails off with his name – but they could have been from anyone, and they gave me more questions than answers.

 _Does he want me ther_ _e_ _? - or is he just agreeing to it for Grace's sake? Is it going to be difficult for him – like it is for me? Is he angry with me? - or is he totally indifferent?_ I don't know which is worse.

 _Who am I kidding, though?_ He's a handsome consultant. He'll have women falling at his feet and why would he have ever cared for _me_ that much anyway? What are the chances that he hasn't got someone else by now – _someone better._ Grace hasn't mentioned anyone – but then I haven't asked. I don't want to know the answer. I had my chance and I threw it back in his face. _I can't expect him to want me now._

My taxi arrives at the cabin and they're both waiting for me outside – in the freezing cold. Grace is jumping up and down excitedly and she runs straight into my arms as I get out the taxi.

" _Mummy!_ " She squeals happily.

I wish Sam had been _that_ pleased to see me, but he remains standing back, rigidly and I can't look at him. I don't want to see his face.

"Hello sweetie, I missed you _so much!_ " I whisper to my daughter, as I return her hug, before getting my purse out.

"I've got it." Sam retorts, stepping forward to help the man unload my case. He gets his wallet out of his back pocket and pays the driver.

"Thanks." I mutter, burying my face in Grace's hair. I find that I still can't look at him, at least not his face. I'm afraid of what I might see. I can't bear the thought of seeing how much he hates me – or that he just doesn't care anymore.

I think that _would_ be worse.

 **Sam**

We wrap up warmly and wait outside the cabin. It's freezing, but Grace is much to excited by her Mum's imminent arrival to wait inside. I'm excited to see Connie too – _I am,_ but I'm nervous as well. _So nervous._ The way I left was cruel and she didn't deserve it. She was trying with Grace, but I wanted her to try with me as well. _The three of us as a family_ – that's what I wanted. That's what Connie wanted. That's what Grace wanted. But at the same time, Connie rejected my advances. It was _strange_ – she wanted me _and_ she didn't. I couldn't understand it then – and I still don't.

At the end of the day, I just couldn't cope with the rejection from her – it messed with my head. That's why I took Grace and left, but I could have handled it better. I owed Connie that.

I fear I've made her hate me by leaving like that. I don't think that Connie will ever forgive me. It must have destroyed her when she found out we'd gone. She certainly didn't react how she normally would have – at least not for long.

There was anger to start with – messages threatening legal action and custody battles, but after a couple days, they stopped and it seemed that she had suddenly backed down and accepted the situation without an argument. That was uncharacteristic of Connie and it was like a slap in the face. _I didn't understand it._

I heard her voice sometimes when Grace video-messaged her – though I was careful to stay out the way, so she couldn't see me. She sounded pretty devastated at not being able to hug her daughter – see her properly.

 _I never spoke to Connie myself._ I didn't want to – I didn't know what to say. The only time the two of us have conversed since I left, were via emails. They were short and to-the-point and my wording must have sounded cold – it did to me when I wrote them, but... _how could it be anything else when I don't know what to feel._

Grace runs into her Mum's arms the second she gets out of the taxi – I wish that I could too, but Connie can't even look at me. There's a definite awkward atmosphere – but it's not the one I was expecting. There's no feeling of hatred from her. If she does hate me – she's hiding it well – probably for Grace's sake. Instead, it's as though she's _scared to look me in the eye_.

She goes to pay the taxi, but I say I'll do it. She mutters her thanks but she still can't look at me.

After we go back in the cabin, we all snuggle up on the sofa in front of the roaring log fire – at least, Connie and Grace are snuggled – and Grace and I are, but Connie's gaze remains detached from mine, no matter how hard I _try_ to make eye contact. Either she can't look at me because she does hate me and she wants to hide that from Grace – or she's afraid of what she might see. If only I could catch her eye – because, if it's the latter, I just want to know _why_ she's scared of me.

 **Connie**

Sam keeps trying to catch my eye as we sit with Grace on the sofa. It gives me hope that he _does_ want me here. I _want_ to look at him – but I can't bring myself to do it. Putting on a front for Grace is one thing – but if there is hatred in his eyes, he won't be _able_ to hide it from me.

Sam Strachan has the most gorgeous, warm eyes, but I'm afraid of finding them cold if I dare to look.

"I'll make some tea." Sam mutters and goes to get up.

" _Wait._ " Grace exclaims suddenly, stopping him in his tracks. "I've noticed that you and Mum haven't really said, _'hello'..._ " She announces pointedly. Sam's expression freezes as I quickly look away again, without our eyes meeting. I feel my body tensing up – and I think Grace notices that too. "If you're not going to _hug_...can you at least _shake hands_?" She asks, hopefully.

I swallow and stretch my hand out to him. "It's nice to see you, Sam."

" _Well, it would be if you looked at me_." He comments, taking my cold hand in his warm one and brushing it against his lips instead of shaking it.

His gesture takes me by surprise, so that I forget myself and he successfully catches my eye. His eyes are as warm as they normally are when he looks at me and I relax a bit. "Sorry." I mutter as the ice wall between us melts.

"Hm-mm, that's _better_ , isn't it. It's great to have you here, Con." He smiles with obvious relief. "I'll go and make the tea."

 **Sam**

I stop at the doorway and breathe a sigh of relief. I know we still have a _long_ way to go - and I think that will come out when the two of us are alone, but I think I've reassured her.

"Mummy?" I hear Grace ask. "Why is it so _awkward_ between you and Daddy?"

Oh shit. We are going to have to work a lot harder if we want to convince our daughter that we don't hate each other.

"It's been a long time, sweetie." Connie begins. She pauses, clearly trying to find the right words. "Your Dad and I haven't...been able...to talk, since you came back to America – it was... _too hard_ for us."

"You spoke to _me_." Our daughter points out.

"That's _different_ – you're my daughter." Connie explains. "Grown ups...they can be... _cowards_ sometimes when it comes to talking. We're...not very good at...talking about our _feelings_..." She trails off and I decide I had better go and make the tea, before they see me eavesdropping.

 _There's something preying on my mind. Connie said she didn't speak to me because it was 'too hard'._

 **Connie**

I change the subject and ask Grace how school is going. I don't want to be talking about Sam when he comes back in.

"School's _great._ " She enthuses. "I'm top in Science _and_ PE."

"That's our girl!" I smile. She's inherited both Sam's - and my genes when it comes to science. _Sam._ I find myself back on the subject I'm trying to move away from, but I need to know. _I want to know_. "And Daddy...is he... _happy?_ "

Grace thinks about it for a while. "Yeah... _I think so_...he misses you, though."

" _He said that?_ " I mutter– unable to mask my surprise.

"He doesn't need to, Mum. It's _obvious_ – he talks about you _all the time_." She answers. "And he works too hard. He's _always_ tired when he comes home."

"But he does get out – _sometimes?_ " I ask. "I mean, he must have..." I hesitate. _Can I really ask my daughter this?_ "...friends?"

 **Sam**

I get back to the living room doorway with the tray of tea – just in time to hear Grace answer.

" _Daddy doesn't have a girlfriend_ – if that's what you want to know."

My breath catches in my throat – alerting Connie and Grace to the fact I'm back in the room. I swallow and smile, walking towards them. "tea."

Connie looks at me this time and smiles back. _It's brief but it's a smile nonetheless_.

 **Connie**

 _I'm kicking myself._ He wasn't meant to hear that, but he clearly _did._ I give him a nervous smile as he brings the tea. I didn't want him to know I was fishing to find out whether he was seeing anyone. It's none of my business and the last thing I want is for him to catch me being nosey and get annoyed because I'm interfering. _That's not how I meant it._

"She got a great report from parents' evening." Sam comments, gesturing at Grace as he sits down and hands me a mug of tea.

Grace giggles. "Yes – and Miss Roberts _totally_ fancies Daddy!"

Sam looks _genuinely_ surprised and I chuckle because apparently he hadn't noticed that one of Gracie's teachers is sweet on him.

" _Miss Roberts_ _is_...?" he mutters vaguely.

"Spanish teacher." Grace reminds him brightly.

Sam nearly drops his cup of tea. I reach forward, over Grace and catch it before it slops over him. " _Careful!"_

"You do _Spanish?_ " Sam stammers at our daughter.

" _You didn't know_?!" She snorts indignantly. "Seriously, Dad?"

"Yes." I remark in amazement. " _Seriously, Sam_ – how exactly did you go to meet her _Spanish teacher_ at parents evening _without_ _knowing_ that she teaches Grace Spanish?"

 _I can't wait for his answer to this one._


	2. Chapter 2

**Sam**

Connie is staring at me in amusement. I shrug. "The teacher said she was doing well and trying hard then we moved onto the next one."

Grace giggled. "So you have no idea _who_ my teachers are or what _subjects_ I'm taking, Daddy?"

"Not a clue." I admit shamefully – before suddenly backtracking. "I _know_ you're taking Science and PE." I announce proudly.

Connie chuckles at my delight as she drinks her tea. Simba suddenly stretches out in front of the fire and yawns. He looks up, sees Connie and bounds over to her, barking excitedly.

"Oh hello, Simba." She comments, ruffling his head. "I wondered if you'd join us _eventually_."

I suddenly miss my mouth and the tea dribbles down my chin. I hurriedly wipe it away before Connie sees.

Grace sniggers. "Daddy, Mum will _never_ agree to go out to dinner with you if you keep doing that!"

"Grace – _shush_!" I hiss. Apparently, tact is _not_ my daughter's strong point today.

"What did he do _this_ time?" Connie asks, conveniently _missing_ the part where Grace said that I want to take her for dinner.

Grace giggles "He missed his mouth _completely_ and dribbled down his chin."

Connie smirks at me. " _It happens to the best of us Sam_."

Thanks for that – it wasn't _at all_ patronising!

Grace puts her empty mug on the table. "I'm going to take Simba outside for some exercise."

"Ok, darling...but stay near the cabin." I call after her.

"Yes, Daddy." She answers.

"We've got a _twin_ room, Connie. Grace wanted the single because she goes to bed earlier." I say after Grace leaves. "I hope that's ok. I put your case in there."

"That's fine, Sam." Connie nods...as I suspected, the atmosphere is decidedly colder now that Grace has left the room. _What the hell do we talk about now?_

"How-how have you been?" I eventually ask.

Connie predictably flips _._ "Are you _kidding_ me? - _'how have I been'?_ " She yells at me, leaping to her feet and causing me to do the same in shock. " _Seriously?_ How the _hell_ do you _think_ I've been, Sam?! You take Grace and swan off back over here without a word and you expect me to be _fine_?" Of course it's not surprising she's angry – and she hasn't finished yet. "You _promised_ me we'd be a family, but instead, I end up _a thousand miles away, on my own_. _There never was any future for us_ – you were just bidding your time and trying to keep me sweet until Grace was well enough to leave. You took _everything_ I had that mattered to me, so, I'm _fantastic_ – _bloody fantastic!_ " She snaps angrily.

I know it's bad, but I am literally stunned by her outburst and I can't take my eyes off her. "Shit, you're _beautiful_ when you're angry."

My comment does nothing to calm her down and she actually throws a cushion at my head. " _Shut up!_ \- Is that our room?" She barks at me, before grabbing her handbag off the sofa and storming into the room without waiting for an answer.

"Y-yes." I stammer as the door slams. _Bloody hell!_ In all the years I've known Connie, I have _never_ seen her explode like that – it was both terrifying _and_ incredible.

The open object on the floor catches my attention. _Her diary_ – it must have fallen out of her bag when she grabbed it off the sofa. I bend down to pick it up and the words hit me before I can stop myself from reading them.

 _'It's too late now. I wish I could explain to Sam why I pushed him away. I wish that I could open that door again and walk right back through it, but I can't ask him to listen to me now. I missed my chance and I no longer feel that I deserve his time. Not in that way.'_

The words make me _desperate_ to know more, but I'm conscious that this is Connie's _diary_ and it's private, so I force myself to shut it.

 **Connie**

I sit on the edge of one of the beds breathing hard – exhausted by my outburst. I don't know what made me snap like that. It's not _Sam_ I'm angry at – it's _me_ , but I guess now that I'm here, it's easier to blame him. I always have been good at shouting at him. He brings out the _worst_ in me – and the _best_. I honestly don't think he'd believe me if I told him the truth about why I couldn't let him in. It makes no sense – not to me, so how could _he_ understand and I'm not good with words anyway – at least not the _right_ words, when it comes to talking about my emotions.

 _I shouldn't have thrown the cushion at him._ It was followed by a thump and a groan. I think he hit his shin on the coffee table, trying to move out of the way.

There's a knock on the door and Sam nervously pokes his head around it. He looks relieved when he sees that I've calmed down.

" _I'm sorry._ " I mutter. I have no idea how to heal our fractured relationship and throwing the cushion at him might have been the final straw, the final nail in the coffin– _yet he's here_. He's come to see if I'm ok.

He comes over and sits down next to me on the bed. "You have _every_ right to be angry. Like you said – I left you with nothing. Grace was everything you cared about and I took her away without even letting you say 'goodbye."

"It wasn't _just_ Grace I lost." I answer quietly. I can see in his eyes that he knows what I mean – I lost him too when they left. "And I'm _not_ angry" He stares at me, unconvinced "I'm _not_ angry." I repeat. " – at least not at _you_. I don't know _why_ I lost me temper like that. _I'm sorry_. Is your leg ok?"

"Yeah, my legs fine." He tells me, clearly not wanting me to change the subject. "What _are_ you angry at?"

"Myself." I answer. "You left because of me – if _anyone_ caused this – _I did_."

"I shouldn't have just taken her Connie – it was _cruel_ , and I'm so sorry that I did." He hesitates. " _Why is it too late?_ "

" _What?_ " I feel the colour draining from my face as he holds up my diary. It must have fallen out of my bag and he's clearly read some of it. _I didn't think he'd do that_ – but then I'm then one who's _'yelling without actually saying anything'._

"It fell out your bag and it was open on the floor. I picked it up – but I didn't _mean_ to read it." He whispers. "I know it's private – I'm sorry."

It was an accident – _of course_ it was. He didn't read it on purpose – he's not that kind of person. "It's ok, Sam. It wasn't your fault. I know you wouldn't _deliberately_ read my diary.

" _I didn't know you kept a diary_." He murmurs. I suppose I don't seem like that kind of person either.

"I didn't." I admit. "Only since the crash."

"I want to know, Con. I'm giving you the chance to explain. You said you wanted to but it's too late, well, it's not – and _I want to know_." He repeats.

" _How much_ did you read?" I whisper. _I need to know what he knows already._

"Just that paragraph." He confirms. "I shut it when I realised it was your diary."

I don't know how to start and I end up sighing instead. "I'm not _good_ with words, Sam – at least not when I'm talking about my feelings." I eventually begin. "I honestly don't know _how_ to explain..." I pause." If you _really_ want to try and understand...I guess – you could read _the rest of that entry_ – I don't think I could explain it any better than I did in there."

He nods. "Ok."

"If you _don't mind_ – I'm going to go and watch Grace for a bit."

"Ok – but wrap up warm. It's _freezing_ out there." He instructs – apparently mistaking me for Grace for a moment.

"I will." I agree, shutting the door quietly behind me.

 _He cares enough to give me the time I don't deserve._

 **Sam**

I'm in Daddy mode when I tell Connie to put her coat on before she goes out. She doesn't bite my head off this time though.

I take a deep breath as the door shuts and open her diary to the page I saw before. I flick the pages back until I reach the beginning of the entry. I'm nervous again. I'm about to enter into the head of Connie Beauchamp.

 _And I have no idea what I'm going find._


End file.
